SDMIMD

I wrote this poem 2 weeks back on our Director’s insistence. Too bored to send it out individually to the ones who asked for it, so posting it here. IMD’ites, do tell me what you think of it! (if you’re reading this anyway)

 

 

Sylvan trees here stand by the tread,

Standing by the hearth of her welcome bed,

Pristine is her manner, calm is her face,

Robed in grey, she stands in grace.

 

At her heart of power sit minds of vision,

Sagacious, strong, they work in unison,

Further still now, stands her talent table,

Open to all souls, willing and able.

 

Teeming yet quiet lies her wise mind,

Books of all ages, adorning bind,

Spines bear prints of fingers that ran over,

Desks let time pass by much slower.

 

The canteen bustle, the rattle of plates,

Unaware of the hand dealt out by our fates,

Seeking wisdom found in books borrowed,    ##(Borrowed lines from one of my prev poems!)

Over piping cuppas, and minds harrowed.

 

She stands by it all, ever unfazed,

In her grey gown, that greenery has laced,

She is my alma mater, my guiding light,

Now and forever more, I’ll be a IMD’ite!

 

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